


That's No Way To Say Goodbye

by Bizarra



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Heavy Angst, Merry Month of Cohen, inspired by a tumblr post
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 07:49:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18796081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bizarra/pseuds/Bizarra
Summary: Tom Paris works with the Janeway and Chakotay on a medical mystery, but then tragedy strikes.





	That's No Way To Say Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Merry Month of Cohen angst fic fest. It's angsty. You've been warned. 
> 
> Thanks to Mana for the Beta and Khurst for letting me borrow her headcanon. I may borrow it again because this idea has given me another (a bit happier, maybe) idea. 
> 
> Once I have other fic obligations filled. :)

_You know my love goes with you as your love stays with me,_  
it's just the way it changes, like the shoreline and the sea,  
but let's not talk of love or chains and things we can't untie,  
your eyes are soft with sorrow,  
Hey, that's no way to say goodbye.  
Lyrics by Leonard Cohen 

 

**3 Days post-New Earth**

Tom Paris picked up the medical tricorder and turned to Captain Kathryn Janeway, who sat on the edge of his biobed, in Sickbay. She was complaining of a headache, but not like one she’d ever had before; she’d explained that it felt as if the pain was someone else's. She glanced up as Tom waved his diagnostic wand over the crown of her head. “I’m not showing that you’ve got a headache, Captain. I don’t want to give you anything for phantom pain,” he told her. 

“But there is pain, Tom. It’s, well, it’s hard to explain,” she told him. She looked around at the empty sickbay. “Where is the Doctor?”

“Something’s gone screwy with his holo-emitters and he’s offline,” Tom explained. “B’Elanna’s working on it.” He shrugged. “So, you’re stuck with me. Sorry.”

Kathryn shook her head and sighed, then continued with her original thought: “Has Commander Chakotay come in, recently, for a headache?”

“He left here about ten minutes before you arrived. He refused treatment though,” the medical assistant explained. “Said he’d rather let it run its’ course. Did you send him down here?”

She shook her head. “No, I haven’t seen him yet, this morning.” He watched as she paused for a moment. “Lieutenant, I’d really prefer to speak with the Doctor.”

“I’m not sure how long it will be, Captain,” Tom told her. “I’m perfectly capable of handling a headache.”

She lifted her hand to her forehead and rubbed. “I think this may be more complicated than a headache, Tom.”

“You’re the captain, Captain,” he explained. “If you’re not feeling well, I can give you the day off.”

“That won’t be necessary, Lieutenant.” Kathryn blew out a breath and started to speak, then stopped, as if she was trying to talk herself into something. “Since we’ve been back, the oddest thing has been happening. I’ve been sensing the Commander’s feel...er...well his...I’ve been sensing the Commander.”

Tom quirked his brows. “But, neither of you are telepathic.” He began to wave his tool over her head again.

She glared at her helmsman. “Thank you for that obvious diagnosis.”

He answered her glare with a spark in his eyes: “Have you spoken to Chakotay about this? Is this happening with him, as well?”

“I … haven’t spoken to him much outside of our duty shifts,” the Captain admitted.

“Well, if I’m gonna figure this out, we need to talk to him.” Before she could object, Tom had tapped his combadge and recalled Chakotay to sickbay.

Janeway sighed. “Can we have this discussion in the Doctor’s office, Tom? I’d prefer absolute privacy, in case someone comes in here.”

“Okay,” he agreed, then followed her into the Doctor’s private office. He asked Kes to bring Chakotay in, when he arrived, and then to leave them alone to talk.

“Tom,” Kathryn reached and grabbed his wrist, “this goes no further than this room. No Harry, no B’Elanna, no one.”

“Captain,” Tom said in a soft, assuring voice, “right now, I am functioning as a medical practitioner. This goes no further than your medical record, I can promise you that.”

She brushed her hand across her forehead. “I’d rather it not go there, either.”

The young, blonde officer regarded her with a look. “You know I can’t do that. It could be relevant in any future procedures.”

Kathryn rolled her eyes and sighed. “I’ll speak with the Doctor about an extra layer of privacy in my records, then.”

Tom nodded and sat back to wait for the third party in their impending conversation. He wondered exactly how it would go. He knew his commanding officers had gotten close on their three-month long forced shore leave. Just how close, he wondered. There was always his not entirely serious betting pool. He had no real vested interest in the romantic leanings of the command team other than idle thinking to pass the time. And they had a lot of time to pass.

Approximately five minutes later, Chakotay was ushered into the room and the doors closed, behind him. Concern crossed his face when he saw the room’s occupants. “Kathryn?”

She looked up. “I’m alright,” she reassured with a slight smile, “just a mild headache, that actually seems to be yours.”

“Mine?” he questioned as he sank into a chair next to the slight woman, watching her warily.

Chakotay leaned toward the captain, Tom noticed; he doubted the Commander even realized the subconscious body language. The worried man looked her over, head to toe, as if reassuring himself that she was, in fact, as okay as she claimed. Tom inwardly smirked, as he thought that his parents were less obvious than this. Taking a breath, to break into their non-verbal conversation, he started: “Uh, yeah,” answering Chakotay’s question. “The Captain came in, not long after you left, complaining of a headache that felt different.”

“Like it was someone else’s,” Kathryn cut in. Then, with a nod towards her first officer, she finished: “yours, to be exact.”

His brows furrowed. “I’m not sure I follow.” Then, a light clicked on, behind his eyes, and he straightened. “Wait … are you ...?”

Her eyes widened. “You mean, you …”

“I don’t ....”

“It had to have been …”

“Something on the …”

“Or maybe …”

Tom sat back, amused, as the two continued speaking in half-sentences, yet clearly understanding each other. Meanwhile, he’d been completely lost around the third partial-comment. “Wait, slow down. I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he waved his hand between them. “Can you translate for the plebe in the room?”

Janeway turned to him. “If we’re sensing each other, could it have been something from Ne-” She reddened. Interesting, Tom thought. “The planet,” she continued. “Maybe the illness we shared?”

Tom stood and passed the diagnostic wand over Chakotay’s head, then compared the readings with the Captain’s. “Technically, you didn’t share the virus. It wasn’t airborne, but transmitted by the insect bite. Could be the same bug bit you both.“ Then, a thought occurred, and Tom closed his eyes. “Or,” he sat, taking in a deep breath and blowing it out. With a cautious start, he said: “I’m gonna ask this question, and I want you both to know anything you say won’t leave this room. I may be a lot of things, but, you’ve both known me long enough…”

“Lieutenant,” Janeway said his rank as if it were a warning.

“I have to know, Captain,” he sighed, “if I’m going to figure out why you both are suddenly sensing each other like a Betazoid. It may be important. Did you exchange body fluids?”

“Why do you need to know that, Paris?” the Commander asked.

“If you somehow shared the virus between you,” his explanation faltered as they both glared at him, “that could … explain the…” Tom’s words dwindled off and he ended his comment by pointing between the two of their heads. He sat up and shored his defenses; he was the medical professional - well, at the moment - here, and he needed answers. “Look, if I’m going to look at all angles, to figure this out, it may help. I promise you, this is strictly diagnostic.” To add some levity to the moment, he cracked, with a slight grin: “I vow on the Hippocratic Oath I will not use the information for nefarious purposes.”

That comment got the infamous Janeway glare leveled at him. A flash of something akin to sadness crossed her eyes as she quickly closed them. When she reopened them, a steely, determined look replaced the brief glimpse of emotion. Chakotay reached and closed his hand over her arm. Her eyes moved to him, and the look that passed between them told Tom everything he needed.

Kathryn moved her arm and stood. “I think we’re through, here. You’ll get with the Doctor, when he’s back online, and see what you can do and whether this … is temporary or permanent.” She tugged at her uniform and moved to the door. “I’ll be on the bridge.” She left the room without a second glance.

Tom watched her go, with a half-hearted attempt to stop her. He glanced to Chakotay, who was staring at the doors she’d just escaped through with a look that could only be explained as: ‘complicated’.

Tom asked again, softer: “Chakotay?”

The man glared at him, growled a quick ‘yes’, and stormed out of the doors before they’d fully opened, nearly clipping them with his large frame.

“That went well,” Tom mumbled as he pulled up their medical reports and began entering the data. When finished, he locked the reports to their, his, and the Doctor’s eyes only.

**5 Days-post the failed slipstream flight**

Tom sat in the mess hall, covertly observing his commanding officers. They’d each been in sickbay, sporadically, over the last few years, for further testing on the connection they seemed to have developed after their marooning and subsequent return. Because he’d been the initial medic who saw them, much to their chagrin, the Doctor had put him in charge of the research and further study of their unique … bond? That wasn’t really the right word, and Janeway would phaser him for thinking it, but, honestly, what other word could he use? 

Over time, he’d observed that the connection had grown stronger; evolved. Given their penchant for ‘inside jokes’, he reasoned that they could now speak to each other, telepathically. Neither of them had mentioned this development, but, given how they reacted to each other without eye contact, that was the only deduction he could make. And, honestly, they were all the better for it. To have a command team this in-tune with each other could only benefit the entire crew.

As they got up to leave, Chakotay’s hand hovered over - but, did not touch - the small of the captain’s back. Interesting. A throat cleared. Tom’s attention quickly moved to his companion, who was giving him a crooked glance. “What?”

“If you keep focusing more on their relationship, and not ours, I could get a little jealous,” B’Elanna said with a smirk.

“They don’t have a relationship,” Tom said, almost defensively. “And I was just thinking about something.”

B’Elanna leaned forward. “They don’t have a relationship like I don’t have ridges on my forehead.” She reached across. “What were you thinking?”

“Just,” he started, then realized what he’d been about to say. “I can’t say anything. It’s confidential. Medical.”

“What’s wrong?” Voyager’s Chief Engineer grew concerned. “Is one of them sick?”

“What?” Tom looked surprised at her assumption, then shook his head. “No! No, it’s nothing like that. Just a puzzle I’ve been working on, for a while.”

She nodded and sat back. “Anything I could help with?”

Tom smiled and shook his head. “Like I said, it’s medical stuff.” He waved his hand and leaned forward, taking her hand in his. “What’s say we head back to my quarters and,” he lifted his brow, suggestively, “have a celebratory night cap?” He leaned forward and kissed her. “We may not have gotten home, but, thanks to your new engine, we did get closer. That’s worth celebrating, right?”

The half-Klingon grinned. “You’re right. It is.” She stood and pulled Tom up, then leaned closer and pressed her lips to his in a kiss that promised more. “So, let’s go celebrate.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him from the room.

**Two days later**

Tom could hear the Captain pacing, behind him. So far, the away mission had been going well; the planet they orbited was uninhabited, lush, and rich in the food-stuffs they sorely needed. Chakotay had gone down with Ayala, Neelix, and Gerron. Tom heard her laugh, then move up the stairs. She asked Harry about some anomalous readings that the Commander had clearly, silently, asked about.

That was when all Hell broke loose.

He heard her sharply yell: “Tuvok, they’re in trouble!” and turned, just in time to see Janeway grab her head and let out a strangled, pain-filled sound, unlike anything he’d ever heard before. She stumbled forward and fell down the three steps leading to the command center of the bridge.

With no regard to anyone taking over his helm, Tom immediately rushed forward, “Captain!” She was struggling upright, against the stairs, stepped back and tripped again, landing hard on the second step. She rocked back and forth and clutched her head, clearly in severe pain. He grabbed her shoulders and tried to steady her, easing her back. It was then that she looked at him, pain etched in her eyes. 

She grabbed his arm. “Hurt! He’s hurt.” Kathryn’s eyes squeezed shut and she hissed out another tight scream. Then, just as suddenly, her eyes opened and she focused her panicked gaze clearly on him. “He’s gone.” She clenched his arm so tightly, her fingernails dug into the skin beneath his uniform jacket. “Tom …”

He was momentarily confused, but the desperate look, and gathering tears in her eyes, made him realize, with a deeply-sinking feeling, just what she meant. Without lifting his gaze from hers, Tom spoke: “Harry, beam Chakotay to Sickbay! Tuvok,” he looked up at the man who knelt just behind his friend, “can you take command, for now?”

“I’ve lost Commander Chakotay’s signal,” Harry abruptly spoke.

At the same time, a call came over the comms channel: “Away team to Voyager, we’re taking heavy phaser fire.” The voice sounded like Ayala’s. “The Commander is down, I don’t know his status...” The signal was abruptly cut as Harry announced that he’d beamed the entire team to sickbay, using a wide signal.

Tom stood, pulling the captain up with him. “We’re going to Sickbay.”

She abruptly came to life in his arms and pushed away from him. “No! I need to stay here. Figure out what went wrong.” He reached for her again, as she turned to Tuvok. “How did we miss someone else down there!”

Tom gave the Security Chief an imploring look as the Vulcan raised an eyebrow and spoke with an unemotional insistence. “For once, I agree with Lieutenant Paris. You should go to Sickbay.”

“I can’t,” she whispered.

Tom gently lay a hand on her shoulder. He knew exactly why she didn’t want to go; to go would confront the reality that he suspected. A scant moment later, a call from the Doctor overrode any objection she had. “Doctor to Captain Janeway.” He audibly hesitated before continuing, in a more sober tone: “You’re needed in Sickbay.”

Tom leaned closer and softly told her: “C’mon. We’ll go together.” When she subtly nodded, he guided her from the bridge and walked her into the turbolift.

 

When they arrived in the medical bay a few minutes later, the Doctor met them at the door. Tom could see a covered body on the back, and most private, biobed. His eyes slid back to the EMH as he unconsciously tightened his hold on the shaken woman, next to him.

“The rest of the Away Team suffered no injuries and I have released them. As for,” he glanced back at the body before continuing. “I want you to know that I did everything I could,” the Chief Medical Officer explained to his captain, in a gentle voice that was overlaid with grief. “The alien phaser created a shock to his system that was too severe and I couldn’t stop the …” he ceased speaking when the Captain raised her hand and interrupted him.

“I need to see him,” she said, in a barely-steady voice, as she pulled away.

“Captain, I don’t think that’s …” Doc’s voice withered at the glare she faced him with.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Tom volunteered, but hesitated when she turned.

“Thank you, Tom, but no.” She turned back to face the bed Chakotay’s body lay on. “I need to do this alone.” He stepped back and watched as she hesitated, then slowly moved forward. 

“Lieutenant, I don’t think this is wise. I haven’t had a chance to make him present …”

Tom heard the Doctor speaking, and ignored him to a point, when he finally interrupted: “Doc,” he warned. “If you want to step between that,” he nodded his head forward as Janeway pulled the sheet away and covered her mouth with her hand, “be my guest. But I’m not ready to be CMO, if you do.”

The Doctor’s mouth opened, closed, then he nodded as he watched the scene before them, briefly. “I’ll be in my office, writing my report.” He lay a comforting hand on Tom’s shoulder before walking away.

Tom moved closer to the biobed, in case he needed to jump in, medically, but stayed back to give the Captain the privacy she needed. He crossed his arms and swallowed his own emotion as he watched Kathryn Janeway say goodbye to the man she’d silently loved for three years. Well - who was he kidding? - probably the entire time they’d been in this cursed quadrant.

Tom watched as Kathryn leaned closer and drifted her hands along Chakotay’s face, touching every inch, memorizing every detail. She traced the lines of his tattoo with a lover’s hand. She shook her head, as she no doubt fought against her silent tears, and leaned down to press a kiss, first on his forehead, then his lips.

Tom had been privy to their relationship, or the un-admitted existence of it, since he’d been working with them to explain their mental connection. What the abrupt disconnect would do to her, he had no idea. Would her neural pathways return to normal or … he’d been so lost in his own thoughts, Tom had nearly missed her soft question. “What? I’m sorry, what?”

“I asked if you can get me some towels and water,” she turned toward the body, “so I can,” then back to him, “wash …”

Tom shook his head, realizing what she was asking. “You don’t have to do that, Cap …” he hesitated for a moment, “Kathryn. The Doc will see to it.”

She wrung her hands together. “I need to do it, Tom. Please. I … made a promise...” 

He nodded. “Okay. Give me a moment,” he told her, and then went to retrieve the items she’d asked for. He flashed, for a moment, on how he’d react if something happened to B’Elanna, and briefly wiped his eyes as he gathered together a tub of warm water, soap, and towels, on a tray, and rolled them to where she stood, next to Chakotay’s biobed. He cleared his throat: “Take all the time you need. I’ll go back to the bridge.”

“Tom,” she pulled him into a warm hug, “thank you.”

“We’re, all of us, here for you, Captain,” he assured her. “You won’t ever be alone.” He was surprised at the sob he heard, at his words, as she tightened the hug. He held her, offering succor for as long as she needed, until she pulled away and turned to pick up a towel. With a final squeeze of her shoulder, he stepped away, wiping the tears from his own eyes, and raised the privacy shield.

Tom stopped at the medical office and explained to the Doctor what the Captain was doing, and to give her as much time as she needed. He let the EMH know where he’d be, in case she needed him, and turned. With a final glance at the now-shielded corner, Tom said aloud: “I once jokingly promised you, Chakotay, that your life was mine. Now, I truly promise you, her life is mine. I’ll do everything I can,” he pointed his finger, “without her knowledge - because we both know how she is - to take care of her, for you. She’ll get us home and, I promise you, I’ll get her home.” He lifted his hand and saluted. “Fly free, my friend.”

With that, Tom Paris turned and left Sickbay.

 

Three hours later, the turbolift opened and Tom turned to see Captain Janeway step onto the bridge, shoulders squared and head held high. She breezed down to the command center and stepped to her chair. “Tuvok, open a shipwide channel,” she told him as he moved back to his station.

She stood in front of her chair and gave Tom a passing glance as he swiveled fully to face her. “Attention all hands, this is Captain Janeway. This afternoon, while on an away mission, Commander Chakotay was,” she hesitated only briefly, but Tom had caught it, “killed in the line of duty. The change in the command structure will be announced in the next few days. There will be a service for the Commander, tomorrow evening, at 1800 hours, in Holodeck Two, as we will be honoring his wishes for a,” another brief hesitation, “traditional funeral, according to his tribe’s customs. Afterward, Mister Neelix will be holding a reception in the mess hall, for anyone who wishes to attend.” Her voice cracked at the last word, before she took a deep breath. “For now, we will be continuing our journey, back home, to the Alpha Quadrant. Janeway out.” 

She glanced at the empty chair next to her and her facade fell, momentarily, a tear sliding down her cheek. Tom started for her, but she turned to him and gave a look that stayed him. She quickly wiped her face, shored herself back up, and sat. She nodded him back to his helm and ordered: “Mister Paris, resume course for the Alpha Quadrant.”


End file.
